


Cinnamon and sugary (and softly spoken lies)

by frogsarebitches



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, Family Bonding, Gen, Kidnapping, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Self-Harm, Will add more tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogsarebitches/pseuds/frogsarebitches
Summary: "If Klaus closes his eyes and concentrates really hard, he can almost pretend that the orange filtering through his eyelids is the sun, and not a reflection of the naked bulb bouncing into his eyes."OrKlaus gets 'napped (again) and tortured (again) and prays his siblings notice this time.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone
Comments: 7
Kudos: 64





	Cinnamon and sugary (and softly spoken lies)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited for this one! Title is from Pepper by Butthole Surfers
> 
> This first chapter is quite short compared to the rest of them though just to ease you in 
> 
> CW are in the bottom notes!

If Klaus closes his eyes and concentrates really hard, he can almost pretend that the orange filtering through his eyelids is the sun, and not a reflection of the naked bulb bouncing into his eyes. He can pretend he's in 'Nam, and it's one of those rare good days where the work is minimal and the earth is humid but not too much, and the other soldiers are far too busy drinking to notice how Dave and Klaus are sitting just a little too close together to explain away.

He stares at Dave and Dave stares back, warm smile tugging at his lips, eyes clear and impossibly blue, brighter than anything else there. The soil beneath them is hot, and the warmth of it reaches them even through their army fatigues. They lay back into it and pretend to cloud watch even though the sky is empty and starkly blue. Their hands are just barely touching, pinkies brushing against each other in a way that could be entirely accidental, but isn't. Dave is smiling at him and it's like looking at the sun. 

If Klaus feels like it, he can even imagine there are no other soldiers around the base at all. That their camp is abandoned, or everyone is on leave at the same time somehow, and now it's just the two of them wandering around aimlessly as the night stubbornly drags its heels. It's the first time they've held hands in the open.

That never actually happened, but it’s his fantasy so he'll imagine whatever he damn well pleases. 

When the image in his mind flickers slightly, and he starts hearing bullets whizz through the air instead of mosquitoes, Klaus takes it as his sign to leave. The world goes dark again. He frowns and opens his eyes - not that there's much point. There isn't much difference regarding his surroundings whether his eyes are open or closed. It’s just as bland.

He's got a bed; a single model, scratchy sheets, a white bedspread. It's rickety, kind of reminiscent of the makeshift cot he had back in Vietnam, though he tries not to draw parallels between the two, lest the images of dewy jungle foliage start creeping up to haunt him. It's weird - when plants just crop up in his room like that, and he only knows it isn't real because he knows for a fact he could never keep a real plant alive for that long. Ben used to joke he'd even kill an artificial one, that he'd somehow find a way. But Klaus doesn't like to think about Ben anymore. Not here. 

There's a desk, too. Pretty unremarkable, as far as desks go. And a chair - for the desk. No windows. Klaus supposes that's fair - he's always been a flight risk. Though a pretty view wouldn’t be remissed. He’d appreciate any glimpse of the world beyond these four blank walls. He’s actually starting to doubt there is one. 

He does have a bathroom, thankfully. It holds a toilet, a sink and a shower which runs cold water for two minutes per day. He has one bar of soap and no towels. He’s been wearing the same clothes since the day he arrived - a tan pair of pants and a t-shirt. 

There's another door that barely ever opens and - that's it. That's been his life for the past however-many-days he's been here. Klaus wishes he had thought to start a tally chart when he first arrived so he could keep track of the days, but didn't think to do so and he had never really been that organised anyway. It has to have been at least a couple weeks though, minimum. It feels like years.

Three sharp raps at the door startle Klaus from his thoughts. He hauls himself to his feet and presses up against the wall. The peephole slides open and a pair of beady eyes pear through the gap. Klaus wiggles his fingers from across the room. He lives to antagonize. 

He doesn't know what to make of Pogo being his captor. Or, he supposes technically it's Hargreeves who captured him. Pogo is just complicit, which isn't all that surprising. Complicity was always sort of his thing. However, he was sure Pogo used to have a moral compass to at least some capacity. How times change. 

Pogo is the one who delivers his meals every day. He's also the one who brought him to this room the very first day he arrived, and continues to bring him back here when he gets injured and has been treated at the infirmary. 

Heads up; there’s no Grace in this timeline. At least, Klaus hasn't seen her anywhere. He isn't sure why, but he feels fairly confident in marking it down as general timeline fuckery. Trying to work out anything more specific than that gives him a headache. He has no idea how Five does it, and feels some newfound respect for the little guy for having the patience to deal with all that nonsense on a daily basis.

But for whatever reason, Pogo is definitely different this time around. He seems less human, metaphorically speaking. Klaus doesn't know if he's just colder by nature in this timeline or if Reginald made him differently this time around. Either way, Klaus doesn't like him. They were never that close to begin with, and it only takes a certain number of electrocutions before you really start to go off a person. In Klaus' case, eight.

Pogo carries around a cattle prod in this timeline as well as a cane, so he kind of looks like some sort of chimpanzee mountain hiker, which is somewhat amusing once you get over the initial shock of it.

The door slides open and Pogo limps inside after slamming it shut behind him. He fixes Klaus with a hard glare, "Stand back against the wall, Four." 

Another less than ideal development; Klaus is being called Number Four again. He wonders if dehumanization is part of the kidnapping process, or if Hargreeves just forgot his name again. Maybe he’s too embarrassed to ask. 

"I am stood back against the wall, Pogo stick. I think you might need new glasses, if you don't mind my saying so." 

Pogo scowls, which is exactly what Klaus was aiming for. 

"Speak out of turn again and there will be consequences." At this, Pogo flicks a switch on the cattle prod and blue light flickers between the tongs. The low buzzing it emits causes Klaus to flinch back involuntarily. 

Klaus glares at him but nonetheless swallows his words to watch as Pogo makes his way into the room. He locks the door behind him and sets a tray on his desk, taking away the one from last night. Most of the food has been left untouched.

"Mr Hargreeves insists that you eat all of your food in order to receive the required nutrients, Number Four. I don't want to have to force feed you." Pogo drawls, but something about the glint in his eyes tells Klaus he would actually very much enjoy the experience. 

"Want me to grow up big and strong so I can fight off the bad guys, huh? I hate to break it to you Pogo, but you are actually the bad guy in this scenario." 

Pogo smiles mirthlessly. "We cannot have you dropping dead before you have fulfilled your purpose now, can we?" 

"Oh, what a tragedy that would be! And after we've gotten so close over the last few months, too - what would you do without me? I dread to think…”

"You are not as amusing as you think you are, Four." 

"So I've been told," Klaus pouts, and then nods towards his tray. "You know, maybe if you people fed me something other than gross, over-processed mush I would actually be able to stomach a full meal." 

Klaus isn't exaggerating; the food he's being given is some of the most unappetizing he's ever tasted. And it's always cold, too - he's pretty sure it's not meant to be served cold. It's the worst he's ever had - and he once willingly ate a dumpster bagel. He wonders if Luther had to eat this kind of stuff on the moon - he can't imagine surviving on this and only this for four years straight. Maybe that's why he was always such a stickler for the rules. His face was permanently etched into a sour expression from being forced to endure this tastebud torture, and the rest just came with the territory. Or, maybe that was just how his face looked whenever he was addressing Klaus… it was probably just that. 

"The food you are being provided with is perfectly adequate for someone of your position. This isn't a five store resort. You are being held here against your will, if you recall."

"Oh, how could I forget? What with all this five star treatment I'm getting," Klaus snaps, gesturing around the stark room. "Just wait until my siblings get here; you're gonna wish you were nicer to me then."

Pogo chuckles darkly, "Dear boy, you don't seriously still think your siblings are coming to save you, do you? Your ignorance is astounding."

"They are coming," Klaus assures him. "They wouldn't just leave me here. We're family." 

"You're disasters, is what you are. It's why Reginald chose not to adopt you all in the first place. Besides, even if your siblings were searching for you they still wouldn't find you. We're in a time vortex, you fool. And the only one of you with the ability to control this region can barely warp reality without breaking a sweat." Pogo chuckles again, and takes several steps forward so that Klaus is forced to look him in the eye. "You are stuck here alone in this room forever, and you will never, ever leave." 

Klaus has heard enough, he breaks out of his stupor and charges. But Pogo is fast, and has clearly been baiting him - he already has the cattle prod ready in his hand. A familiar searing pain tears through his stomach and momentarily freezes him in place. His muscles clamp up, vibrations trapped under his skin, and Klaus internally curses Pogo for always focusing his frustrations onto his 'Klaus loves Dave' tattoo. It's barely even legible anymore. 

Pogo allows this to go on for a few long seconds before eventually pulling away and allowing Klaus to collapse in a heap on the floor. Small puffs of smoke rise through the air. Pogo coughs, wafting them away.

Klaus' body jerks against his will for a while, his stomach tight and sore, and he whimpers as the pain finally subsides enough for him to curl up into a ball on his side. 

He hears Pogo scoff above him, "All bark and no bite. Perhaps in another three weeks you'll actually learn how to hold your own in a fight.”

Klaus belatedly hears Pogo's footsteps receding and then the door predictably opening and closing shortly afterwards. Klaus' dinner tray had fallen to the ground in all the commotion, and the mush is now strewn about in cold little clumps across the white linoleum. At least he doesn't have to eat it now. 

**Author's Note:**

> SO this chapter is like whats happening currently and next chapter there's gonna be flashbacks and stuff to how he got there. I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> CW: Some PTSD symptoms, mild torture and disordered eating


End file.
